Authors: Victoria Howard
Then t
here was only one call left to make.
Emilia was wailing.
Again
.
Jack West waited a moment for the baby’s shrieking to stop.
It didn’t.
Emilia hit a new high note.
He hadn’
t bargained for this.
He
rammed
the paintbrush
in
to
the jar of white spirit
.
Exasperated at yet another interruption,
he
wash
ed
his hands, and then stormed into the
family room
.
He
lifted
the red-faced,
screaming baby
from the
Moses basket
and placed
her on
his shoulder, gently rubbing her back.
How Rosa, Emilia’s mother
,
could sleep through the piercing cries, he had no idea.
But then most new mothers didn’t stay out partying with their friends till dawn.
Emilia’s cries settled into snuffling sounds.
He
gently bounced
the squirming infant
down
the hallway
.
Over the course
of
the last
two weeks
, E
milia had changed from a placid,
six
-week old
angel
into
an
‘
enfant terrible
,
’
crying at every opportunity and for no apparent reason.
During that time, they ha
d tried everything
to placate her, including
pushing her in the stroller
and
playing soft music
.
But
had
nothing worked.
Finally, Rosa
had given in to his pleas
and taken
the
child
to
the
h
ospital
be
checked by the paediatrician,
who
said
the most likely cause of the incessant crying was colic.
Jack
was
n’t
convinced
. He
thought
it had something to do with Rosa’s
lack of interest in the child.
Emilia
burped and
threw up all over his s
houlder
.
‘
Damn it,
’
Jack muttered.
It was his own fault
;
he knew better.
Next time he’d remember to thro
w
a towel over his
upper arm before
he picked
her up
.
‘
Shush, little girl,
’
he murmured,
and carried her into the bathroom. He
kiss
ed
the tufts of black curly hair.
‘
Need to change that nasty diaper.
You’re not only a noisy littl
e thing, you reek
,
sweetheart.
’
At six feet two and one hundred and eight
y
-five
pounds, his large hands weren’t designed for
fastening
diapers and
easing tiny limbs into
pink
romper suit
s
.
In the
family room
,
his cell
phone rang
.
He ignored it, but when it rang
for a
fourth
time, then a
fifth
,
he
realize
d he’d
forgotten to switch
it over to the
answering
service
.
He fastened the last popper,
scooped
up the baby and
snatched up the receiver, wedging it between his neck and shoulder as he rocked Emilia.
‘
West.
’
‘
Hello,
Jack West
?
This is
—
’
‘
Grace Elliott
,
’
he interrupted.
‘
How did you know?
’
‘
I have a good memory.
’
Her voice was rich,
and
smooth like honey, every word a caress.
He
put the hollow feeling in his gut down to surprise
, not
the
images
of a chance meeting six months previously
that
filled
his mind
.
‘
Why are you calling
, Grace
?
’
‘
Daniel’
s dead,
’
she blurted out
.
‘
He
died
in a car accident two weeks ago.
’
‘
I’m sorry
for your loss.
It must be a difficult time for you.
’
‘
T
he last few weeks haven’t been
easy.
’
‘
So
why
are you
calling
and
why should
you
r
husband’s death
interest
me?
’
‘
It doesn’t
have anything to do with you
, not directly.
But do
you
remember
the last thing
you said to me?
’
‘
Remind me
.
’
‘
You
said that
if I
ever
needed
any
help
, I should contact you
.
’
He chuckled mirthlessly.
‘
You never fail to amaze me.
Look, Grace, things have changed
.
I’m no longer
attached to the embassy in
London.
’
‘
I know that.
And
that
’s
exactly
why I need your help.
I
t’s difficult to explain over the telephone.
My flight gets into Miami Interna
tional at two twenty-five
tomorrow.
Could you meet me
?
I’ll explain everything then
, I promise
.
’
‘
I don’t know, Grace.
I have commitments,
’
he said looking at the sleeping baby cradle
d
in the crook of his arm.
‘
Please, Jack.
I’ve no one else to turn to
.
I don’t fully understand
, but something odd has happened
.
And you’re the
only person I know in America
who can help
.
’
T
he strain
was evident in
her voice
.
F
or
a moment he didn’t answer.
Instead he closed his eyes and remembered
the day he’d first seen her
—
a
beautiful
woman with
glossy
,
sable hair,
sad blue eyes
,
and
a
shy smile
.
She’d slid past his defences th
en, just as she was doing now.
‘
Jack
?
Jack
, are you still there?
’